Baby, It's Cold Outside
by Queen
Summary: Every world has its winters. Throughout the galaxy, different people find themselves warding off the cold with the help of a friend, a lover...or even a not-quite enemy. Co-written!
1. Only Hope by laloga

**Author's Note**: Hello all! Queen here, for the moment. Welcome to another co-authored story! Each ficlet in this collection is the result of a story challenge. So though they all share the same theme, they're all a little different from each other.

Each ficlet is written by a different author. Check under the individual ficlet title to see which _Star Wars: The Clone Wars_ author wrote that particular story.

The challenge was: _Warmth. It's cold outside in the GFFA. Get your character/s of choice to warm up! _

Enjoy!

~Queen_  
_

* * *

_Baby, It's Cold Outside_

* * *

Only Hope

(_by: laloga_)

* * *

It was cold in space.

There was nothing in his field of vision but black, empty void, and the weight of the entire galaxy pressed upon his heart. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood at the viewport of the shuttle that he'd hired for this task and watched the sandy-colored planet as it grew larger and larger; he knew that within a few minutes he'd be dirtside again, and his mission – his last mission, his most important mission – would begin in earnest.

For now he had nothing to do but wait.

The shuttle was an older model, ill-equipped for the rigors of hyperspace travel, and as such the environmental controls did not work as they should, which accounted for the omnipresent, overwhelming cold of the passenger cabin. The vessel's pilot, a thick-furred Talz, wasn't overly concerned about the temperature, but Obi-Wan had been unable to stop shivering for the last hour or so of the journey, and a part of him was actually glad that he was headed to a desert planet with two suns.

But he had hardly given himself a thought, not really. Not when he held something so precious in his arms. Looking down, he smiled as Luke's head turned, his pink rosebud lips slightly pursed, as if the infant was in deep contemplation.

_Unraveling the mysteries of the universe, little one?_

Obi-Wan didn't speak the words; he'd hardly spoken at all since-

Blinking, he glanced out of the viewport again. Tatooine drew closer, but the shuttle was slow and he knew that it would be a few minutes before they arrived. He sighed and looked back at the baby in his arms, whose eyes were still closed even as his tiny face had turned completely towards Obi-Wan's tunic.

As the Jedi watched, Luke's face scrunched in the manner it did when he was about to cry, and Obi-Wan was instantly on alert, running through a mental checklist of the baby's needs in order to figure out what was wrong. Luke had eaten not long ago, and his diaper – from what Obi-Wan could tell – was still fresh.

With the more obvious concerns accounted for, Obi-Wan took a breath and reached into the Force, thankful for the ability to discern Luke's moods and emotions in this way; he had no idea how "normal" people handled these situations, but intended to make the most of the resources available to him while he could. It only took an instant before he realized what was troubling the infant.

Even wrapped in a soft, cream-colored blanket and resting in the Jedi's arms, Luke was cold.

It was such an obvious problem that Obi-Wan almost felt chagrin for not thinking of it immediately, though in retrospect he knew he had many other matters that were vying for his mental energy right now. In any case, as soon as he registered the fact, he did what felt right.

Carefully holding the baby with one, secure arm, Obi-Wan unfolded his own robe and parted the fabric of his outer tunic before slipping Luke gently between the layers; once he made sure the infant could breathe, he wrapped the outer tunic, then his robe, then his own arms, over the tiny body, so Luke was pressed against the undertunic that covered his chest. Within moments, the inchoate cry of the baby ebbed, then stopped altogether, and Obi-Wan exhaled in relief, his breath fluttering the downy-soft hair on Luke's head. One thing was right, anyway. One thing was good.

Thankful for this, Obi-Wan inhaled Luke's warm, new-baby scent, then glanced up, out the viewport, as Tatooine came nearer; the dark swell of space that had been so present on this journey was receding in the wake of the bright, sandy-colored planet.

His gaze was pulled away again when Luke made a gurgling, baby-sound that could have easily been a request for food as one for attention, but Obi-Wan knew it was the latter of the two. His arms tightened around the infant, the silent gesture conveying what he knew words would not: _I am here for you, little one. I will always be here for you._

In his arms, Luke made another noise, a quiet hmm as if in acknowledgment, and he rested his cheek against Obi-Wan's chest, above the place that sheltered the Jedi's heavy heart.

Oddly enough, with the addition of that new burden on his body, some of the heaviness lifted and he was flooded with warmth.

There was hope.

* * *

In addition to the existing parameters of the challenge, I wanted to write a ficlet that contained space, a bond that was not romantic, and a character that I've never written before. I know the setting is not quite TCW era, but hopefully within a few days of the end of the Clone Wars is close enough. ;)

Thanks for reading!


	2. Snow at Midnight by Queen

_It's Cold Outside_

* * *

Snow At Midnight

(_by: Queen_)

* * *

Coruscant didn't have much by way of weather.

The climate of the entire planet was controlled by massive devices hidden deep within the city or far out in space. It didn't rain, it didn't storm, and it certainly didn't snow.

Except for once in a while, when something small and lost within the workings of the climate control system broke, and nothing worked quite the way it should.

About twenty minutes after a small, insignificant cog in the machine snapped out of place, the first snowflakes began to fall.

* * *

"Petro, we are not supposed to be doing this!"

"That's half the fun Katooni. Don't tell me you're scared."

She rolled her eyes, as she usually did, when he said something stupid or annoying. Creeping along the dark hallway, Katooni glanced backward. Petro was leading the way, but behind her were Byph, Ganodi, Zatt and Gungi, all tiptoeing and trying to be as quiet as they could. It was late, and they were supposed to be long since in bed, but somehow, Petro had convinced them to slip outside.

It wasn't every day that it snowed on Coruscant, after all. It wasn't like Ilum.

Sneaking between shadows, the group of six younglings made their way down a half forgotten back hall and towards a door. Petro paused, peeking around a corner, before turning back with a grin. "Come on, it's clear."

The six Jedi younglings could be very quiet, and they hurried across the last corridor and out a heavy door. The cold hit Katooni with a chill, though without Ilum's sharp bite. The sky was dark, but the lights of the city gave it a cool illumination. A single light near the door shone on the small rain garden outside one of the Temple's massive walls. Fat wet flakes of snow drifted down from above, falling like cold little stars across the grass, the frozen flowers, and her face.

It was pretty. There'd been no enjoyment of scenery on Ilum. Tugging her tunic tighter, she smiled a little into the black night and falling white snow.

Ganodi laughed first, running out into the garden, with Zatt right on her heels, lifting his arms and spinning around. Snowflakes spun around him in a whirlwind - Nautolans were always so good with water, even when it was frozen. A soft, stereophonic laugh sounded beside her, and she grinned at Byph as he began to half skate, half slide out into the garden after the others, arms akimbo for balance. Gungi let out a low roar and charged across the walled space, leaping up making himself into a Wookiee cannonball. Snow sprayed everywhere as he exploded a particularly large snowbank.

Katooni winced, and waved her hands in a quieting motion. "Shhh, Gungi!"

The Wookiee's head popped back out of the snow with a giant grin just as something wet and cold smacked into her face. "Ugh! Who threw -"

Petro. Of course.

She scowled at him. He had a wicked, completely shameless grin on his face. "Lighten up, Katooni."

"We're still not supposed to be out here," she said, irritably.

"Come on, it's not like we do this every day," he countered, still looking smug about getting her with a snowball.

Katooni rolled her eyes. Again. And that was when something cold and wet smacked into Petro's head, almost bowling him over. The look of complete shock on his face made her laugh, and she snickered. Water and frost dripped all over him, and judging by how he was jumping around, some of it got under his shirt. "Argh, what the -" he began, but before he could get any further, another snowball flew through the air. Fortunately, this one was a bit low, and got Katooni's shoulder rather than her head.

Ganodi and Zatt were standing across from them, both laughing uproariously and pointing. Zatt had three other snowballs floating around him, and Ganodi was holding another one. Byph was hovering off to one side, trying not to laugh and failing. Every time he got one of his throats from making noise another one guffawed, and it made it sound like there were half a dozen people laughing rather than just two.

"Come on, you two," Ganodi laughed. "We snuck outside already, we might as well enjoy it. Stop arguing!"

So they didn't want her and Petro to argue, did they? Katooni lifted an eyebrow, and looked at the snowy wet boy beside her. He was glancing her way as well, and a smirk quirked his lips. She grinned. "Okay, Ganodi. No arguing," Katooni promised sweetly, stepping a bit to the side and lifting a hand. Petro mirrored the motion, and a particularly large swirl of snow floated up between them.

A brush of the Force, and the loose snow compacted between them, forming a particularly large ball. A second after that, Petro and Katooni stepped forward as one, tossing the giant snowball right at Ganodi and Zatt.

The Rodian and Nautolan dove out of the way just in time - for the snowball to whiz past them and straight into Gungi. With a roar that turned into a yelp, he was knocked back into his snowbank, only to emerge with a bellow of challenge.

A moment later, the entire rain garden erupted into a massive, Force-powered snowball fight.

* * *

Katooni shivered, cupping her hands to her mouth and blowing warm breath on them. To her left, Byph was breathing hard, the layers of his voice chuckling even as he shook from the cold. To her right, Petro's teeth were chattering, and he was rubbing his hands together to bring warmth back into them. Ganodi was shivering as well, her snout wrinkling as she shook her fingers to bring the circulation back. Zatt looked perfectly fine. Dratted Nautolan physiology that allowed them to acclimate to cold ocean depths. Gungi also looked perfectly fine, though his fur was covered in a glistening coat of half melted snowflakes.

The group of six stood in the entrance to the Temple, the rain garden just beyond the doors.

It was silent except for the chattering of teeth and the heavy breathing of younglings trying to warm themselves.

Katooni glanced at Petro and said, with a wry little grin, "You know, we really aren't supposed to be out of bed."

He blinked at her once, then laughed. The chattering of his teeth stopped. One by one, each of the children began to laugh, quietly in the dark, chilly hallway, huddling closer together to share their warmth after spending so much time playing in the cold.


	3. Price of a Blanket by Jade Max

_Baby It's Cold Outside_

* * *

Price of a Blanket

(_by: Jade Max_)

* * *

Padmé had once, what felt like a lifetime ago, told him that space was cold.

Staring out into the starlines of hyperspace lines beyond the viewport, Anakin Skywalker wondered how he'd ever thought differently. He had been so unprepared for the galactic tapestry he'd been thrown into. A boy from a backwater world who'd always dreamed of something better; of meeting an angel. Of being a pod racing champion on the circuit beyond Tatooine; of freeing himself and his mother; of travelling through the blackness he saw daily in the sky above.

A beautiful, vibrant darkness he'd always figured would be warm because everyone knew the Twin Suns of Tatooine warmed everything.

How wrong he'd been - about space anyway.

Space was a stark, cold place with points of light and small pockets warmth, but an overall bleakness that could penetrate the soul and freeze the blood. It was a lifeless environment that killed as much as it created.

If his mother known space was cold, she would have dressed him far warmer before sending him off with Qui-Gon Jinn. Which, as it turned out, had been a sort of blessing in disguise. It had given him a chance to talk to Padme; to give her the Japor snippet.

He shook his head at the memories. Life was so different from the boy he'd been over a dozen years ago.

Gentle hands slid along his back before curling about his waist, the press of Padmé's body a welcome weight against his back. He folded his hands over hers, smiling as he leaned back into her embrace. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Maybe you should have," she admonished, her breath on his skin making him shiver as she pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. "We don't get enough of these moments together."

Anakin turned, taking his wife in his arms. Relishing the feel of her soft, pliant form, he bent his head to kiss her gently, one hand lifting to cup her face. Her skin was like shimmersilk under his thumb as he stroked her cheek, pulling away with a soft smile, touching his forehead to hers. "No; we don't."

Padme shared his smile, linking her hands together at the small of his back, joining them from hip to ankle as she cradled him to her. She leaned into the half embrace of his arm around her back, searching his features. "What were you thinking about?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me, Ani."

"The past; ours in particular."

"Which part?"

"Do you remember the first time we were on a cruiser like this together ?"

She arched her eyebrows.

He lifted his gaze to the décor of her transport before smiling back down at her. "The Nabooian ship like this; do you remember?"

"As if I could forget," her eyes sparkled in the starlight, "it's where you gave me the Japor snippet."

"And you gave me a blanket," he teased.

"I'd never seen someone shiver as badly as you. You needed it."

"In my defense-"

"I know Ani," she grinned, pushing up on tip toe to brush her lips across his, dragging her scantily clad body across his. "You come from a warm planet; I've been there, remember?"

His expression darkened a little, as it always did, when he thought of why they'd been there the last time. Padmé's cool fingers touched his cheeks, drawing his attention back to her contrite expression. He swallowed hard against the grief that threatened to intrude on the moment.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "I shouldn't tease."

"I shouldn't be so sensitive; it was a long time ago."

"That's the Jedi talking," she chided. "Three years isn't so long when losing your mother."

Padme hugged him tightly, pressing her cheek to his chest as Anakin wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her tight, his chin on the top of her head. "Did I ever thank you?"

"For what?"

"For being there; I don't know what I'd have done if..."

"Shh," she squeezed him tightly. "There's no place I would rather have been."

They stood in silence for a few moments, Anakin absorbing her comforting, soothing presence much as he had as a Padawan. Except now she was his; his wife. Tilting his head, he pressed a kiss to the top of hers and eased his grip, deliberately teasing her as he pushed the darkness aside. "Did I ever thank you for that blanket?"

"No; I don't think you ever did."

"Never?"

"Never." Padme chuckled softly, "unless the Japor snippet was-"

"No." Anakin shook his head. "That was to so you'd never forget me. If I didn't thank you then, maybe I should thank you now." His lips curved with suggestive intention. "Properly."

"Really?" The light in her eyes was intrigued and anticipatory, her hands sliding from his back, around his waist, to rest low on his belly, her fingers toying with the strings on his sleep pants. "And just what does a proper thank you for a blanket entail, Jedi Skywalker?"

"I'm sure I can think of something appropriate, Senator Amidala."

"Then come back to bed," Padmé suggested huskily, running her hands up and over his bare chest in invitation, "and show me."

"That's quite a price for a blanket."

"Space is cold, remember? Let me warm you up."

He bent, sweeping her easily into his arms with a sexy half smile. "I think, my love, that - for once - I will be the one to warm you up."

"A blanket for a blanket," she agreed with a soft, anticipatory sigh, one hand curving around his neck to draw him downwards for a kiss. "I'll make a politician of you yet."

Anakin obliged, kissing her with aching tenderness before he strode back to their bed, easing her to the rumpled covers. "I'd rather be an appreciative husband clearing his debts," his head lowered back to hers as he followed her down with deliberate intent, "with interest."

fin


	4. Frost Flower by Spikala

_Baby, It's Cold Outside  
_

* * *

Frost Flower

(_by: Spikala_)

* * *

It was getting cold, the temperature on Tatooine was dropping mercilessly with the onset of the night. Ventress bit back a curse and picked up her pace, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around herself like a weakling. She hadn't realised that the desert here became an icebox once the suns had gone down.

The hiss of sand under her feet provided a nice counterpoint to her internal litany of self-recrimination. It had been a waste of time and precious fuel to come here, but she hadn't counted on Jabba's big bounty turning out to be her former Master, Count Dooku. She should've set her ship down closer to Jabba's palace so she wouldn't have to slog through these Force-forsaken dunes to get back to her ship. She raised an arm to protect her eyes as the wind whipped up a flurry of sand. A small shiver crawled down her spine; even the wind was cold now. Her ensemble of bantha leathers and re-appropriated fabric from her Nightsisters garb offered little protection against the cold; something that would have to be rectified when she had some spare credits.

Her Force-senses tingled and she raised her voice to be heard above the rising wind. "You can come out. I know you're there."

A familiar shape detached itself from the shadow of the dunes, coat tails and hat brim flapping in the wind. "Mmmm… perhaps those 'sabers on your waist aren't just for show after all?"

"Bane."

He grinned toothily. "At your service."

"What do you want?" she demanded, ignoring his jibe about her lightsabers. If he wanted to think she'd taken them from a dead Jedi, she wasn't about to correct him.

"Information."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, ignoring the fact that the wind now felt like it was full of knives slicing at her exposed skin.

"It's cold outside," he growled. "Let's talk. My ship."

"And just why would I agree to that? I hardly know you," she said; it was nice to talk to another sentient after weeks of solitude and travel.

He eyed her up and down in a manner she didn't care for.

"Touch me and I'll break your fingers," she snarled.

Bane just smirked as she shivered involuntarily in a fresh gust of icy air, choosing to ignore her warning. "For one thing, my ship will be warm inside."

He pressed a button on the control panel on his wrist and there was a hum of engines as a Telgorn dropship, compact and made out of angles, rose out of the dunes and slowly headed towards them. It settled itself slowly down beside Bane as daintily as a Coruscanti socialite fussing with her skirts. Bane opened the side hatch and stood in the entrance, bright yellow light from the ship's interior flooding the area around Ventress.

"Get in."

Ventress hesitated. Her goose bumps now had their own goose bumps and it was through sheer willpower that she hadn't started shivering. At her feet, she could see frost flowers starting to form on the sand. "I really can't stay."

He _hmphed_. "Little lady, you'll freeze out there. Get in. I'll pour you a drink, we can talk business, and if you have good information, you might even get paid."

It was a non-decision really. She walked up the ramp, feeling a pleasant blast of heat on her face as she entered the ship. Bane indicated a small table beside what looked like the ship's galley and shut the hatch, dialling up the heaters. Ventress took a seat and Bane clattered about in the galley, emerging with two chipped mugs full of steaming hot caf. She took the offered mug without a word and dumped four spoonfuls of sweetner in it. Poison wasn't really Bane's thing so she felt quite safe accepting food from him. And if it was drugged, she fully intended to take his head off.

The sides of her cup were painfully hot, she forced her half-frozen fingers to curl around the cup. Between the deliciously hot air that was coming out the ventilation grills and the tingles of heat in her throat and stomach from the caf, Ventress was beginning to feel quite warm again. She leaned forward over the table. "You were interested in information. On Dooku?"

"Yes. My information is"—he looked down at his mug, swirling the dregs before he drained them—"out of date."

"So why ask me?"

"Out of that lot in there, you were the only one smart enough to walk away. That tells me you've had dealings with the bounty before; you know how dangerous he is."

It was almost a compliment. Ventress felt a spark of warmth in her heart that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature. "Before I tell you anything, I want an advance."

He tossed a golden credit bar across the table. She inspected it, finding it genuine enough. "And a lift back to my ship when we're finished," she continued.

"Done."

"Good," Ventress purred. "Now let's talk."


	5. A Different Kind of Cold by MsMaraJade

_Baby, It's Cold Outside_

* * *

A Different Kind of Cold

(_by MsMaraJade_)

* * *

The memory banks tried to retrieve information from the last time his casing had been exposed to such harsh conditions. First the sweltering heat of the day had tried on more than one occasion to fry his circuits and melt his motherboards. He feared the oil and grease in his gears was going to liquefy and run free of the components that needed it so badly in order to function properly. How the lights on his dome hadn't melted or shattered from the beating dual suns, he was not able to compute. He had always just considered himself a lucky droid, but even he could calculate that eventually even the luckiest of beings lost their good fortune through the mathematics of probability.

He rolled along the rocky outcroppings, grateful at first for the shade. However, it only took a few moments before the chill of the shadows had reminded his circuits that such sudden temperature changes would cause irreversible damage. Running a diagnostic, he realized that the difference between the direct sun and the darkness of the desert was about an eighty-degree differential. And, what was even worse for him was that he had no protective covering, nothing like a solar refractor that would help him in the heat, nor did he have a cloak to keep his temperature regulated during his immediate transition into the shade.

Rolling along, he dared to even think that the chill and cold he felt was…loneliness. He had been away from his counterpart on various occasions, but this somehow felt different. His programming had calculated that by moving off in opposite directions, they each would run out of battery, oil, and energy reserves long before either of them reached any destination that was habitable. He knew he had calculated the most direct route to any kind of civilization by taking the pathway through the rocky part of the desert. Probability and scientific data had proven more than once that life was certain to be in an area where caverns were maintained than in flat and hilly sand dunes.

Why his computational partner had thought life would be in the hottest section of this world, he would never understand. He had truly calculated that his counterpart would had run some kind of logic program by now and realized that the only way to find life was to head towards the caverns. Yet, every time he turned his dome backwards, looking down the path he had come, there was nothing behind him but cold silence. If a droid could feel chills, he was certain his compact, metal frame would be shivering. His sense of humor program tried to giggle internally at the thought that a desert could be cold, but the lonely chill had taken over as soon as the tiny bit of humor had risen.

Then, he thought it a curious concept that a droid could be this lonely, this full of emotion. How he could even compare loneliness to cold was not considered normal programming, especially not for an astromech droid. His primary functioning was for repair and data retrieval, yet somehow he had been a clever enough droid to avoid memory wipes. His knowledge was vast, as he had watched many a human and alien express emotions, and he considered that maybe emotions were a learned response for a droid.

He rolled along the natural corridor, the tight stretch of rock and outcroppings where it had grown so cold now. The sun was far behind the elevated rock, hidden as though below a horizon, and the air seemed to grow still. The only sounds his sensors picked up were the crunching of rocks beneath his nearly-melted treads and the occasional grind of his gears from the stubborn sand that had found its way up beneath his chassis. If he was a lesser-willed droid, like his counterpart, he would have been whining and complaining, blaming whatever he could for his predicament instead of just moving forward. However, that was not the way Artoo-Detoo evolved his programming. He somehow always had a self-will that was not part of the regular standard astromech coding.

Just as he was about to resume his programming of finding Obi-Wan Kenobi, his sensors picked up a sound off to his left that was not his own. Feeling a spike of relief that maybe See-Threepio had taken his recommendation after all, he began to spin towards the sound.

Cold – frozen and harsh – like the strike of a rancor's fist struck him. It was painful and numbing, the kind of agony that made a droid wish to suddenly melt to stop the hurt. As his joints locked up, he could do nothing but scream until his binary vocals could say nothing more. He wasn't even aware of falling onto the cold, hard rock. Everything in his small, domed body had shut down, and even the cold from the loneliness had gone.

Hours later he found himself nestled into a corner of a cold, foreign room. It moved and shook, and as he cautiously peered his dim light around him, he felt the cold overpower him once again. It was like a droid graveyard, and the droids that weren't dead did not hide it on their outer casings that they wished they were.

Artoo-Detoo felt the human need to shiver go through his circuits. He was truly cold and alone, and he had no idea what had happened to See-Threepio. He knew his counterpart could not fend for himself, and the reason he felt so despondent about it was because he had always protected his protocol droid friend. He feared the worst and could imagine Threepio face down in a sand dune, rusting away, his metal body having suffered horribly from joint lock-up and oil leaks.

Then, a familiar voice broke out in the metal room, causing a stir amongst the rest of the droids. Artoo turned on his light, peering carefully into the darkness, hoping he would not disturb one of the others. He was not quite self-healed enough yet to put up a fight. However, to his relief his light struck a golden, humanoid chassis, and the coldness he had felt for so long melted into warmth of familiarity and joy. His counterpart had been found, and they were united to share more adventures once again. Next time, Artoo hoped Threepio would have the capacity to listen to him instead of going off on his own like the helpless fool he can be. Ignoring his friend's worried rambling, Artoo instead basked in the warmth of being reunited with the one droid that made all the cold and worry worthwhile to endure.

* * *

Author's Notes: It's been a very long time since I wrote in the Star Wars universe. I stumbled across the Doctor Who soundtracks, and while listening to "I Am the Doctor," I had the idea to write about our two favorite droids from the saga, and the music surprisingly worked to get this piece done.


	6. Cold Out There by SerendipityAEY

_Baby, It's Cold Outside_

* * *

Cold Out There

(_by: SerendipityAEY_)

* * *

The only thought he had was that he could not stay here. Not tonight.

It only took a matter of moments for Obi-Wan to pull his boots on and find his cloak before he was closing the door to his modest room behind him and taking purposeful strides toward the nearest exit.

He should meditate. He should be resting.

But he found he could not, nor did he even want to try. The Temple, his home, the place where he should always find peace and solace ...it was quiet. Too quiet. Deathly quiet. And he didn't want to face it tonight.

A rare but not unknown feeling of loneliness was beginning to creep around the edges of his heart, gaining in strength and measure even with every step he took through the empty passageways of his temple.

Anakin, maybe one of only two he would consider as close as he could have to family, was far, far away, fighting some bloody battle, on some war torn planet, risking life and limb, for Who knew how long.

Those he would consider friends were doing the same on countless planets in similar situations strewn across the galaxy. Those that had not already perished, anyway.

The thought was grim, and the accompanying feelings of frustration and despair were unlike the Jedi Master, but in these times even he was finding hope harder and harder to come by.

And though he was a Jedi, his ultimate goal to be above any need or desire, he knew sometimes it was best, necessary even, for one not to be alone.

The galaxy had grown into a dark, cold place. And no one was immune.

For a moment, he considered going for a drink but that thought was quickly dismissed in favor of another. Perhaps a friend, in moments like this, was preferable to the less than healthy methods of dealing with loneliness.

So Obi-Wan made his way to CoCo Town. The streets and skylines seemed less populated than usual but it was no more than a fleeting thought and Obi-Wan pulled on his hood to shadow his face anyway, though he wasn't entirely sure why. There was nothing to hide from here and the air was not cold, not on Coruscant...

Again, he was reminded of darker, colder things - his thoughts so easily pulled down into the muck - and of the last place he'd been: cold, rainy, dirty. Children and families, ripped from their homes to cower shivering in the mud. And there had been so little he could do.

This sheltered, climate-controlled existence on Coruscant seemed almost obscene in comparison.

His thoughts were lifted however as he reached the old-style diner that was his destination, and the friend that was there to greet him.

"Obi-Wan," Dex grinned, throwing his arms wide for a hug. "It's good to see you."

Obi-Wan could not help but smile in return as he embraced his old friend.

With a wave of his hand, Dex gestured to an empty table, but with a startled glance Obi-Wan realized that every table was empty.

"Slow night, Dex?" Obi-Wan asked as he settled on the bench seat.

"Holiday and all, you know," Dex answered as he moved into the kitchen but continued speaking to Obi-Wan from behind the pass-through. It seemed there was no staff, either.

"Never get many customers, but I like to stay open, anyway," Dex continued as he prepared something on the counter. "Someone usually makes their way here, and they always seem to be in need of something and grateful for a place to go."

Obi-Wan had not recalled it was a holiday until Dex mentioned it and pretended not to notice the knowing look on his friend's face though he couldn't help smiling anyway.

"Hot spiced chocolate," Dex announced heartily as he emerged from the kitchen a moment later with two large mugs.

"Sounds a bit rich," Obi-Wan bantered, lifting one brow at Dex, who was squeezing into the booth across from him.

"Can't drink tea all the time, Obi-Wan. This is good for you, it'll warm you right up."

"But it's not cold outside," Obi-Wan replied. He'd meant it to be a light-hearted rebuke but his voice had taken on a quieter tone he hadn't intended.

Dex, in his way though, knew, and he took it all in stride. "Sometimes it's your insides that need warming up." His eyes held a merry sort of glint, and Obi-Wan found he could only be glad he came so he lifted the mug to his lips and took a long, slow sip of the steaming liquid.

It was indeed rich, the chocolate thick and decadent, coating his tongue as he tasted it. The chocolate was sweet and there was a hint of vanilla and cinnamon as well as something spicier that gave the drink an entirely different kind of heat. It was delicious and he decided he quite enjoyed it, even if it wasn't something he would have very often.

The rich treat was good, and the company better and after some time Obi-Wan felt his mood lifting, though in the back of his mind he could still sense the weight of a small unnamed sorrow and he let his mind drift with things he knew the Jedi in him would not wish for, but the man in him could hope for.

As always, he left all his faith to the Force and he would accept whatever it brought.

Later, they finished their drinks and Dex moved to the kitchen to prepare some food and _finally_ some _tea_. From his robe, Obi-Wan's comm sounded with the beep that indicated a message at the same moment the door chimed with the entering of a new patron. For one instant he didn't know which to look at, but then his senses were flooded with a warm, familiar presence in the Force and he found it did not matter because he _knew_.

And he did not feel so cold any longer.


End file.
